5.1.11

When Ben got the call about playing at Bottom Of The Hill, I promptly called Jenn. She's only a three hour drive from Fresno, so it's about the closest we'd get to each other. She agreed to meet us up there and we got started planning.

Unfortunately, we were planning the wrong things. Our friend Dana booked her hotel right away--that smarty!-- and Ben finally brought it to my attention that, uh, we'd better get something soon. We started calling and found that even though we were months away from New Years, hotels were getting filled quickly.

I hopped on Kayak.com for the first time, and decided cheap and easy was the way to go. They had a listing for The Vertigo Hotel, and I looked through their website. Theme? Check. Clean? Check. Available? Check. Will take our Triple A discount? Check.

We booked it.

Jenn and I had time to spend in the room while Ben was doing sound check. I don't stay in many hotels, and the first thing I do is scour the place when I end up in one. I am most frightened of needles hidden in the mattress, and I check through the bed before I actually commit to laying in it. It's annoying, but I swear there's going to be a time where someone says, "Thank you, Aurora, for checking for needles. You are so thoughtful."

No needles, but the place did have framed Hitchcock posters, white linens, and horse head lamps. Lovely! My favorite, though, was the shower, which was so modern that I had to call the front desk to ask how to operate it.

Me: "Um, this might be the stupidest question you've ever gotten..."

Front Desk: "How do you turn on the shower?"

Me: "Yes! That's it! Can you tell me?!"

Front Desk: "It would be weirder if you came in already knowing how to use it. We get that all the time!"

The shower was worth the questioning--perfect pressure, and stayed hot! I was bummed when I had to get out because I was getting grossly prune-y. I was stoked again, however, when I wrapped up in the plush white robe hanging in the mirrored closet. Peace out, bros, I'm going to hang with my awesome robe. Zsa Zsa, you can come on over.

Jenn and I were putting on our New Years faces when Ben came in, concerned. Panic ensued while Ben explained that he had overheard some hotel patrons talking to the front desk--apparently the hotel valet was leaving at seven pm and after that, we wouldn't be able to enter and leave at will with our vehicle...which was the whole reason we shelled out $40 upon checking-in, for this silly hotel valet service. We confirmed this--total bummer, and we felt a little ripped off--and then hatched an alternative plan. The front desk had not been informed about the valet's schedule and I felt bad for them, imagining the barrage of angry people on New Years Eve. They didn't offer to compensate us, but we didn't ask either.

Jenn left to San Jose right after the show. Too soon! I miss that little scamp. Ben noticed that the bed was fold-out, not a regular mattress. This didn't bother me, because it didn't have needles in it. When we came in, I was so partied out I could have slept on rocks, so long as they were warm and clean.

I am totally in my early thirties, and this trip confirmed it. I cannot do roach motels anymore. I breathed an audible sigh of relief when I woke up, went downstairs, and found the gourmet coffee station in the lobby. I drank one beer and one water on purpose, so I wouldn't have to deal with the inconvenience of a hangover in a town I don't know that well. The aesthetics and cleanliness of The Vertigo outweighed the potential valet problem.